


Enlisted From Death

by xusu



Category: Mother 3
Genre: Body Horror, Cyborgs, Gen, Gothic, Horror, Human Experimentation, Implied/Referenced Torture, Laboratories, Mechanical horror, Medical Procedures, Psychological Horror, Secret Organizations, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-13 04:12:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18933145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xusu/pseuds/xusu
Summary: A new recruit joins a secret organization, fitted to be the perfect mechanized soldier.(A gothic retelling of Claus’s mechanical chimerization.)





	Enlisted From Death

**Author's Note:**

> hi!!! my name is sara and i’m 16. i’m also @pyramidserum on twitter and weirdmageddon on tumblr. this is one of the first 3 fics i wrote for mother 3, and this will be the first one i publish on here. this was for a creative writing assignment for english class where we wrote a gothic literature short story. i didnt finish it, but i plan on finishing it as a chapter by chapter story. i have never published any fanfictions online before and i am still fairly new to writing and a little self-conscious, so i’d die for any sort of feedback! please leave comments/reviews and kudos if you like it! happy belated world goth day 🖤

Cold. It’s so cold. I’ve been dunked into an icebath, or so my hazy judgement would assume if I weren’t so preoccupied with feeling like my extremities could be knocked off with a mallet. My ocular organs, at least for now, were resting under the thick skin of my lids as total darkness embraces the edges of my field of view. I can discern the feeling of my optic nerves drifting away, being carried by waves, invisible to my sight but perceptible to my brain, of the inky void they reside in.

The scent of clinical disinfectant managed to worm its way down my trachea as I gasped for air. Starkly aware of the sharp pain this action caused me, as if though my ribs had a spike-soled boot crushing them, my eyes shot open. The size of my pupils must have shrunk by five times upon seeing the oppressive light hailing from the environment I found myself in. It was luminous; it singed my retinas. Opening my mouth to let out a shrill cry, I found that my vocal chords would not vibrate, completely betraying my overpoweringly animalistic impulse to call for aid.

I also have taken notice of my limbs bound to restraints; tucking them in to my core for warmth is not within my current realm of options. Thus, I shall say with utter defeat that I have no choice but to surrender to the situation I find myself in now.

This heavy machinery that fills the room is barely distinguishable with my pupils adjusting and resizing like the aperture of a camera. I manage, however, to catch a glimpse of myself in the twisted and warped reflection of a metallic surface nearby. My face is obscured. A piece of cloth falls over one of my eyes and the rest of the fabric is tied and taped across my nose and mouth, like a mask leaving all but one eye visible. I look as if I should be prone to a fit of asphyxia while bearing this hideous article atop my visage.

There came a stirring suddenly from behind the entrance to this hellish confinement. As the large metal door creaked open, I could hear the piercing, rancorous wails of countless distressed animals—none of which I am able to make distinct. A figure in a white coat, spotted with flecks of blood, enters my chamber. I cannot catch a glimpse at their face, inasmuch as my vision is still spiraling. As the door shuts once again, the cacophony of tormented noises from miscellaneous anguished creatures dies by the presence of a barrier between us once more.

The lights are humming with crackling electricity and obscuring my vision of what I assume is this scientist—is it impaired to begin with? The person the white coat squeaks in panic. They gasp discreetly, as if not to attract the attention of another living soul. I see them motion to slap their hands over their mouth. _What?_

My heart leaps and stutters and so does the EKG monitor. I bite my tongue sharply, drawing blood in the process. And I begin to notice I’m suddenly being strangulated by all-encompassing sheer terror that’s viscous and oozing into my very bones. It feels hot against my skull. Or perhaps it is just the air that I am exhaling being trapped in the facial cloth enclosing both of my breathing passages.

 _Who is this? Where am I? What is this place? Why am I here? Why can’t I leave?_ These five essential questions come rushing into my perturbed brain like a pack of dogs being called in for a festive feast of raw, bloody meat. I’m beginning to feel faint; I must not be getting enough oxygen to my head to sustain my rationality.

I breathe harder, harder, and before I know it I’m hyperventilating. _What piece am I missing?_ My vision lurches and acidic bile threatens to claw its way up my esophagus. My eyes roll back in their sockets as my head keels back into the darkness that I find envelops me once again.

* * *

Some time has passed since I last remember being conscious. I awake to a dark, quiet room, in a bed much more comfortable than that of the one I had been previously strapped to. In fact... I’m not bound to this one whatsoever! I touch the wooden frame of my bed and the nerves installed in my mechanical fingers comprehend the smooth fiber of plastic. I roll my eyes as I realize that the wood is nothing but a cheap plastic wood print.

Disregarding that, my curiosity becomes me and I shuffle my legs off of the side of the mattress. I go feet first with a resounding slap to the cold ceramic tile. Its frigid touch shoots up my spine and sends a shiver throughout my body. I am not sporting any footwear yet. There is a dim lamp on the bedside table resembling a desk light. There are no buttons or switches on or near it, but I notice a panel beneath the rectangular bulb with ten circles lined up beside each other. I lightly tap the circles and slide my finger, observing how they follow my touch: slide left to dim, slide right to brighten. I slide my finger to the right and set the desk light’s brightness to its maximum setting. My ability to perceive my surroundings is greatly enhanced, and I can suddenly distinguish how cramped these quarters truly are. Awfully tight, but nothing littering the floor, shelves, or cabinets.

Many objects in my room are cloaked in white sheets. I am unable to lift these sheets as the cloth has been masterfully tucked beneath the objects and would take industrial strength to lift; a task I know I would not be able to carry out by myself. They are not worn or dirty, and look, in fact, brand new. I cannot comprehend the significance behind decorating my quarters in a white fabric—perhaps some sick joke?

The contrast of the sheets against the scummy grey walls, however, highlights items that sit upon them. Resting atop a low surface I find a pair of black steel-toed military boots and basic white knee-high socks to couple with them. I take no time to think before slipping the socks onto my feet, which to my surprise, are a comfortable fit. I equip the heavy boots over them, which also fit me to near perfection. I begin to practice my balance in them, desiring more room to walk. I begin to wander for the door when it abruptly opens on me from the other side. I take a tumble onto the tile floor.

“Commander!” the person just beyond my quarter yells; quite unnecessary considering I’m right in front of them. “Listen up, you’re a new recruit. There’s a conference at twelve. Gotta make a good first impression, kid.”  
_Commander? Are they talking to me? I’m a newly recruited commander? How does that work? Who—_

“Here’s your clothes.” Without letting me get a word in, they toss at me a black leather jacket with a wool collar, a black belt with a shiny yellow buckle, and a pair of thick, orange cargo pants cuffed just below the knees.

“See ya in an hour.” They add curtly, and slam the door behind them.


End file.
